The Unexpected Hero
by Daisy Brambleburr
Summary: When Pippin disappears from their camp one night, Merry is tormented with guilt for letting his young cousin out of his sight. Hard times are ahead for the Fellowship, the strong are corrupted and two unlikely heroes emerge. *complete*
1. A long day on the river

The Unexpected Hero  
  
Chapter One - A long day on the river  
  
"Come on Pip. Time to go back to the boats." Merry clapped his cousin on the shoulder as he walked past him on his way to the river. Pippin smiled grimly, catching Merry's eye before he walked past. Neither of them had enjoyed the trip by boat, and were not looking forward to another long eventless day on the river. Pippin hoisted himself up from the tree root he had been sitting on and grasped his pack. He followed Merry down to the river, slipping down the loose earth on the banks. They made their way over to Boromir who was putting the last of their things into the boats.   
  
"Good morning little ones," he said to them as he heard them approach, smiling kindly when he saw the dark rings around their eyes. Pippin had not slept at all last night, the dark, menacing trees had made him feel uneasy, and even the figure of Aragorn, silhouetted against the night sky failed to make him feel safe. Any slight rustle of leaves had made him jump, and the memory of the fair woods of Lothlorien preyed on his mind. He felt a dull sadness in his heart as he thought of the fact that he would never set eyes upon them again.   
  
Pippin was jolted from his thoughts by Merry hissing in his ear. "I wish he'd stop calling us 'little ones," he said indignantly whilst Boromir's back was turned. "We're not that much younger than him."  
  
"I don't think he's referring to our age, Merry," Pippin whispered back.  
  
They both stifled their laughter as Boromir turned around to face them. Pippin passed his pack to him and then, following Merry's lead, scrambled into the boat. He looked wistfully at the nice, solid ground as Boromir pushed the boat away from the bank with his paddle. He envied Merry, who had been brought up on the banks of the Brandywine River. He could swim, as well as man a boat, and Pippin could do neither. The boat, caught up in the current, took them swiftly away from their camp, and soon it was out of Pippin's view.   
  
Peering over Merrys shoulder he caught sight of Aragorn's boat, which was further down the river. Sitting behind Aragorn was Frodo. Pippin knew, from a recent talk with Sam, that Frodo was finding the ring more of a burden than ever before. It showed in his face, he had worry lines on his forehead and his cheeks looked sullen and pale. Pippins gaze moved to Sam. Looking distinctly uneasy, Sam was clutching at the side of the boat and looking out at the water miserably. Pippin laughed to himself as he recalled Sam's lament from last night; 'Boats are not places for hobbits, Its unnatural. We're not designed to be water folk. No, give me a garden in the place of a river any day. You know where you are with gardens.'  
  
As the boats were carried south by the flow of the river, the Fellowship seldom spoke. Aragorn seemed intent on watching the river ahead of them, and paddled strongly without pausing. Boromir, on the other hand, looked uneasy and restless. Pippin noticed his troubled gaze, and he frequently paddled faster, so as to catch up with Aragorn's boat. Pippin was beginning to feel anxious about Boromir. He had always trusted him, but now he was acting different, edgy and distracted. He had recently noticed Aragorn giving him sideways looks, as if to check up on him. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what. Pippin shivered slightly. The cold breeze that was flitting around the boats caught his bare neck and hands. He drew his elven-cloak around his shoulders and sank down further in his seat. Merry, who had heard his movements, turned around to speak to him.   
  
"Are you okay, Pip?" he asked.   
  
Pippin grimaced slightly as he tried to stretch out his legs without rocking the boat too much. "I'll be fine," he answered. " The breeze is making me cold, and my legs are cramped from being stuck in this wooden tub."   
  
Merry grinned at him. "Think of it like this. If we were walking it'd be more likely that the orcs would find us. I'd rather be stuck in a boat for days and days than have to fight those foul orcs again.   
  
Pippin sighed. "I suppose your right."   
  
'After all', he thought, as he moved into a more comfortable position, 'Merry is always right.' When they were children Pippin had considered Merry's opinion to be of much higher authority than anyone else's. Merry had always looked out for him; Merry was concerned for him if he was in trouble. Pippin was glad that he was with him. He felt that he was sometimes over looked, after all, Frodo was of much more importance than he was. Pippin smiled to himself. At least Merry noticed him, Merry cared.   
  
For the rest of the long, empty day Pippin watched the banks of the river slip past them. The environment seemed to grow even more hostile as they moved down the river. Pippin inwardly longed for the light, warm woods that they had left only yesterday. As he sat, silently lost in his thoughts, the sun rose high up in the sky, then slowly slipped down towards the horizon.   
  
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Authors Note: I have worried that the first chapter is rather slow moving and not very captivating. If you think something needs to be done, please tell me in a review. However, I do feel the story gets better, so please carry on! I'm expecting to upload each chapter every day, as I have it all written already. The story is PG because of violence in later chapters. Remember to review!  
  
LOTR is not mine. 


	2. Voices in the dark

Chapter Two- Voices in the dark   
  
"We'll make camp along this bank," Aragorn said, gesturing to the right hand bank of the river.   
  
His voice broke the silence, and the Fellowship turned their heads to look where he was pointing.   
  
This part of the river was covered in thick undergrowth, and would make a fine place for them to camp, unseen by anyone, unwelcome or otherwise.   
  
Boromir guided the boat to the bank and Pippin climbed out, glad to feel the ground beneath his feet. He stretched out his stiff limbs and retrieved his pack from Legolas and Gimli's boat. Following the lead of Aragorn, they all trooped up the bank into the cover of five large oak trees. They busied themselves with laying out their rugs and Sam began to make a fire.   
  
Aragorn, who had been scouting around the oak trees, had a slightly troubled expression on his face.   
  
"I have an uneasy feeling," he said in an undertone to Legolas. Pippin, who was close by, pricked up his ears.   
  
"I have seen things moving on the side of the river and I am certain they weren't Gollum."   
  
"We must be careful then," Legolas replied, glancing at Sam, who was about to light the recently built fire.   
  
Aragorn followed Legolas' glance, nodded curtly and moved over to Sam.   
  
"No fire tonight Sam. We must keep our position secret."   
  
Sam looked disappointed, and Pippin knew how he felt. A fire was a comfort to all of them when night came.   
  
They all sat in a circle, silently munching on their (rather stale) bread and dried fruit that they had brought with them from Lorien. After he had finished eating, Pippin sat with his back to one of the trees, hugging his knees. He was not looking forward to another night in a spot almost as unfriendly as the last. He took a sip from his water canteen to quench his thirst after the rather tasteless meal and thought wistfully of some hot food and pipe-weed to smoke. He sadly fondled his pipe, which had been empty for many days. He watched as the others drew lots for who would watch first. He noticed, rather sadly, that he had not been included. Merry, realizing that Pippin was sitting alone, walked over and sat down beside him.   
  
"I'm watching first. Do you want to keep me company?" Merry asked him.   
  
Pippin smiled slightly. Trust Merry to notice when he was left out. "All right then," he answered.   
  
The two hobbits sat in companionable silence by the tree, watching the sun go down. Meanwhile, Aragorn was sitting with his back to the rest of the Fellowship, thoughtfully sucking on the end of his pipe and staring out to the river. Pippin wondered what was going through his mind, and what burden he carried on his shoulders, for he was looking tired and care-worn. Legolas was pacing the camp with his hands behind his back, and Gimli was sitting sharpening his axe. Sam had busied himself with his pots and pans, and Frodo was sitting studying something in his hands. The Ring, Pippin realized. Sam was right, he was getting more affected by it.   
  
Pippin noticed how much more somber the atmosphere had become. In the early days of their quest there had been songs, laughter and jokes before night, but now they sat quietly, singing or jesting was rarely heard. Pippin missed it, it helped take his mind off the danger that was ever growing closer.   
  
The night crept in, and before long everyone had lay down to rest. The air was presently filled with Sam's soft snores, a comforting sound in the thick silence that hung all around them.   
  
The minutes crept on and Pippin could sense sleep overcoming him. He shook himself mentally, and stared ahead into the darkness. He could hear Merrys breathing grow heavier, and then his head flopped onto his front. He had fallen asleep. Pippin went to wake him, but then stopped himself. Merry had not slept for two days, and it seemed a shame to wake him when he could carry on the watch on his own. He gently lay Merry down on a rug and went back to where he had been sitting on the outskirts of the camp.   
  
It was then when he heard the voices.   
  
*-*  
  
Authors Note: Ooh, a bit of a cliffhanger! The story is about to get a lot more interesting now, and I'm again sorry if these chapters weren't up to scratch, I'm not totally pleased with them but I have done all I can. Please review, and the next chapter should be up in a day or two.  
  
LOTR is not mine. 


	3. Quick thinking

Chapter Three - Quick thinking   
  
They were faint, yet clearly audible, and cut through the air like a knife. Pippin's body stiffened, and he strained his ears to try to fathom how far they were from the camp. They could not have been very close, but near enough for Pippin's sharp ears to hear them. They seemed to be coming from the land behind the camp, which was screened by thick green vines and heavy undergrowth and shrubbery. Pippin silently got up, and without thinking, stealthily made his way away from the camp. He slid behind a curtain of thick leaves and weeds, and slowly peered around to see the origin of the voices. The sight that met his eyes caused terror to surge through his veins. Standing in a clearing no more than twenty feet away from him stood a group of orcs.   
  
There were over thirty of them, and they seemed to be discussing, or rather arguing, about something. Pippin caught his breath. He had to warn the others before it was too late. He turned to run back to the camp, but his feet made a crunching noise on the dead leaves that covered the earth like a carpet. A nearby orc turned its head, giving a suspicious glance to the area where Pippin was hiding. Pippin froze, but thankfully the orc did not see him, and turned away. Panic began to clog his brain. There was no way he could warn the others now. Even if he did warn them they were hopelessly outnumbered. With no other option but to do so, he leant forwards and tried to listen to what the orcs were saying.   
  
They were a rather motley collection of orcs, and had were most probably the remains of armies from Isengard and Mordor who had gone astray at some point and joined together. The largest and foulest of them all had once been an important orc in Mordor, but after hearing murmurs of a Ring of Power he had been driven close to madness by the mere thought of it. He was their leader, and was standing on a tree stump as he spoke, luckily for Pippin, in the common tongue.   
  
"The Ring is close, my friends," he said, grinning horribly so that his pointed yellow teeth caught the moonlight.   
  
"The element of surprise is with us. We will launch an attack, kill them all. They will have no chance." He ran his fingers up the blade of his sword menacingly. The other orcs leered at him, delighted at the prospect of bloodshed and victory.   
  
"We will find the ring after they are dead. Then, we will be the most successful and praised Orcs in the whole of Middle Earth. We will overthrow, one by one, the puny, pathetic lands of Elves and Men. Sauron himself will fall at our feet. Don't let any of the halflings get away. They have the Ring. Prepare your weapons, we will leave shortly."   
  
Pippin was horrified. He couldn't think. He nervously fumbled in his pocket, and his fingers fell across something smooth and cold. He pulled it out and held it in front of his face. It was a simple gold ring, given to him by his father. It was one of their wedding rings, and it traditionally went to the first male son of the family. It had lain forgotten in his waistcoat pocket since the start of his journey, for he did not wear it on his finger for fear of loosing it. A fragment of an idea began to form in Pippins head. He felt hope. It just might work. And even if it wouldn't, what other choice did he have? He leant forward, ready to take his moment. As the orcs were checking over their weapons, his thoughts drifted to the conversation they had just had. Deluded by their visions of glory and power, the Ring had begun to corrupt them before they even had it in their grasp.   
  
'Stupid to think they can overthrow Sauron,' Pippin thought to himself. How could a group of thirty orcs hope to defeat armies of thousands and thousands, as well as the Dark Lord himself? Pippin had not imagined the power of the Ring to be this strong. He recalled Boromir saying how it was 'such a small thing', yet it held the fate of their world. Boromir, powerful, noble Boromir, was greatly tempted by the ring, yet Frodo could resist it. He felt pride for Frodo, and then immense determination. He would save Frodo from death, even if it meant dying himself.   
  
Just then the orc that seemed to be in charge said something in it's own language that Pippin could not understand. The orcs looked ready to set off.   
  
'Its now or never Pip,' he muttered to himself.   
  
Gathering all the courage he could muster, he stepped with shaking legs away from his hiding place. Instantly they spotted him, a cry was let out, and two orcs roughly grasped his arms and pinned him up against a tree. Pippin felt the cold blade of a sword against his throat, and looking up he saw the leader of the orcs, who had just been talking, in front of him. He was looking down upon him with a mixture of disdain and amusement on his ugly face.   
  
"Well well well. A halfling in our midst," he said, smiling sarcastically at Pippin. The other orcs snickered.   
  
"What is your name?" he asked. Pippin did not speak. "Answer me!" he said, pressing the blade into his throat so that it almost nicked the skin.   
  
"Baggins," Pippin said, thinking quickly. He must play this part; he must save his friends, no matter what happened to him.   
  
The orc drew his sword away slightly.   
  
"Baggins." He said to himself, his lips curling into a horrible smile. "We have heard whispers of that name on our travels. The Black Riders have been searching for you, but it seems we got here first."  
  
Pippin swallowed, and looked up defiantly.   
  
"Well Mr. Baggins. I do believe you have something of interest to us," the orc said, putting his face up closer to Pippin's. Pippin winced at the putrid smell, and half closed his eyes. "We know of what you carry."  
  
"Oh yes?" He said faintly. His arms hurt him terribly; the orcs that were holding him up were pushing their hard, ironbound hands into him forcefully, without compassion.   
  
"Don't play the fool with me." The orc said, anger flashing across his face. "We want the Ring. Are you going to give it to us nicely," The orcs snickered again, "or are we going to have to make you?"   
  
The hold on his arms was released, and Pippin fell to the floor. Instantly a circle of orcs closed in around him.   
  
"I will not give the ring to you foul creatures." Pippin almost spat out.   
  
He felt a hard, metal boot kick him in the side. The wind was knocked out of him, and he couldn't breathe. He spluttered and rolled over. He could hear orc laughter ringing in his ears.   
  
"Miserable little rat. Why don't we finish him off?" growled a voice from above Pippin. Then came the sound of a weapon being drawn.   
  
"Shut your trap!" Pippin recognized the voice of the orc that hit him. "Let him suffer. I'll finish him off once we have it."  
  
Pippin gritted his teeth and lay still.  
  
"Give us the Ring!" The orc repeated, kicking him again with more force.  
  
"Never!" Pippin cried. The only thought that ran through his head was of the others. His friends. They must leave them alone, they can't find them.   
  
He felt hands grab his neck, and he was hoisted to his feet. His legs shook and he could hardly stand upright. The orc looked down at him, drawing his blade back and forth across his leathery hand.  
  
"The Ring."   
  
"No!"   
  
The sword flashed. He was once again on the floor. Blood stained his clothes from a cut on his chest. Pippin clutched at it frantically, gasping in pain as it stung him sharply. The cut was ugly and painful and a reminder of what was to come if he did not give the Ring up. But he couldn't, not yet. If he gave it up too soon they would be suspicious, and wonder if it was the One Ring that they so longed for. He had to hold on, they had to be so mad with victory that they would not think to look at the ring until they were far, far away.   
  
Pippin felt more kicks and blows rain down on his body. Now was time to give the ring up. If he didn't, they would surely kill him. Rough hands grasped his hair and he was pulled to his feet. Pippin angrily pulled himself free, and then flopped back against a tree trunk, his whole body shaking and weak.   
  
"So. Changed our mind have we?" he said patronizingly to Pippin.   
  
"Take it," Pippin said bitterly, holding out his ring. The orc grabbed it from his outstretched hand, and looked upon it, an expression of triumph on his face.   
  
With that the last blow fell, with more force and malice than the others. The hilt of a sword hit him hard on the back of the head. Pippin was flung forward, face pressed into the dry earth. He hit the ground with much force, and felt a thudding in his head. Faintly he could hear many feet thud away, mingled with cheers and shouts. Then his eyesight slowly clouded over and everything became black and distorted. He took a faltering breath, and knew no more.  
  
*-*  
  
Authors Note: If you want to find out if Pippin's okay then check out the next chapter which should be up in a day or two. I am no medical expert, so I don't know if Pippins injuries match the symptoms, but I did my best. Also, thanks for your great feedback! Fourteen whole reviews (at this count) all for me! Here are some responses to the reviews:  
  
gandolegornliodorypinieieta : Don't worry, Legolas will be in later chapters! I don't think I put him in the first two for some reason. Also, I am the humble age of 15.  
  
Bookworm: Thanks for the review and thanks for the criticism, I checked the chapters over God knows how many times, but I STILL didn't get everything! I'm a bit annoyed with myself, but I'll try harder in future.   
  
I thank all reviewers, because I love to receive them so much and they make my day. If you leave your pen name I will check out some of your fics if I have enough time.  
  
Please review, and as always, LOTR is not mine! 


	4. Good and bad news

Chapter Four - Good and bad news  
  
Merry was distraught. He had not seen hide nor hair of Pippin for almost 20 minutes now. He must have fallen asleep, and when he woke up Pippin was gone. He had assumed he had gone to stretch his legs, but he did not return. Merry could have kicked himself. Why did he fall asleep and leave little Pippin (for he still thought of him as 'little Pippin', even thought he was a grown hobbit) alone to watch?   
  
Merry paced up and down, and still Pippin did not return. Worry grew inside him, and he knew he had to wake the others. He crept up to Aragorn, who was still and sleeping.   
  
"Strider!" he whispered.   
  
Aragorns eyes shot open.   
  
"Is it my turn to watch?" he asked, voice somewhat bleary with sleep.  
  
"No, it's not that," Merry said impatiently. "Its Pippin. He's gone."   
  
"Gone? Where?" Aragorn asked, instantly becoming alert and attantive. He jumped up and quickly threw on his cloak..   
  
"I don't know. He was watching with me and I...I fell asleep and when I woke up he was gone," Merry said, looking ashamed and averting his eyes to the ground.  
  
Aragorn said nothing, only nodded, and quickly roused the rest of the company. He explained what had happened, and told them to look with haste.   
  
"I'll cover the riverbanks. Legolas, you and Gimli look around the camp. Boromir, you stay with the hobbits. If something took Pippin I want them all to be safe," he dictated efficiently.   
  
Merry, his face deathly pale, went over to where Frodo and Sam were sitting.   
  
"He'll be all right Mister Merry," Sam said awkwardly, patting Merry softly on the back.   
  
"Sam's right. Pippin's got a sensible head on his shoulders." Frodo said, trying his best to comfort his cousin who looked so shook up.  
  
"But where is he? What if something's taken him? Merry said, anxiety bubbling inside him.   
  
Neither Sam nor Frodo answered.   
  
Boromir was pacing the camp, brandishing his sword. His eyes scanned over the trees and bushes, looking for movement. Just then something did move. A figure appeared through the trees, stooped and walking slowly.   
  
"Who goes there?" Boromir cried, holding out his sword and straining his eyes against the darkness.  
  
"It is I, Legolas," the elf answered, walking into the camp with something held in his arms.   
  
"Pippin!" Exclaimed Merry, rushing over to where Legolas stood.   
  
"Yes, I found him, but he is badly wounded. Step aside, let me lie him down."   
  
The elf lay a blanket on the ground, then on top of it he gently placed Pippin.   
  
"Sam, please go to the river and alert Aragorn," Legolas said. Sam nodded and rushed away.   
  
"Let me get to him," he said to Merry, who was crouched at Pippin's side. Frodo approached Merry, and guided him away from where Pippin lay.   
  
Legolas' keen elf eyes could see the extent of Pippins injuries better than any of the others could in the darkness. He gently examined Pippins battered body. His face was bruised and cut, and there was a dark red stain of blood just under his shoulder. His eyes were shut, and his skin cold and pale.   
  
"Merry, please fetch me some water and a cloth," Legolas said, undoing the top of Pippins shirt so that he could get to the wound.  
  
Merry stumbled to his pack, and searched for the water bottle. The relief he had felt when Pippin was found had now turned into despair and sadness. If anything happened to his cousin he did not think he could bear it. He located the water, and passed it to Legolas, who began to bathe Pippin's forehead.   
  
Footsteps were heard, Sam and Aragorn had returned. Aragorn crouched down beside Pippin's lifeless form, and Merry heard Legolas telling him what he knew of the injuries. Aragorns eyebrows raised slightly as he looked at Pippin, and Merry's worry heightened.   
  
At that moment, they heard thudding footfalls and the stocky figure of Gimli could be seen. He was holding a sword in his hand made of a dull, dark metal.   
  
"Orcs!" He cried, his eyebrows knitted together angrily. "I found this sword in the clearing over there." He gesturing with his free hand to the trees behind him.  
  
"Orcs?" said Frodo, puzzled. "But why would they come so close to us, and the Ring, hurt Pippin and then leave? It doesn't make sense."   
  
"I know," replied Gimli, shaking his head. "When Pippin wakes up, I have no doubt he will have the answers."   
  
"But will he wake up?"   
  
Everyone's heads turned to look at Merry. He was sitting alone at the far side of the camp. His face looked drawn and worried. Aragorn stopped what he had been doing, and glanced fleetingly at the ground, unsure of what to say. When no one answered an angry look came across Merry's face.   
  
"Answer me! Is he going to die?"   
  
*-*  
  
Authors Note: Thanks again for the reviews, I love getting all feedback! Here are some responses:  
  
Aurora: Thanks for the tips about the apostrophes, I'm not the best at using them and even though I try to some words still slip through somehow. I'll check it over and correct it. And about the point of the orcs, these orcs are not the ones that the hobbits meet at Amon Hen, they are an independent (is that the right word?) group who want the Ring for themselves. I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear enough!   
  
Boromir Lover: Its going to be 13 chapters long. I have them all written and I will be uploading one a day.   
  
I don't think I got anymore questions, but thanks to all other reviewers! Also, I apologies for any mistakes I've made, I'm not that great at using apostrophes as I said earlier.   
  
LOTR is not mine. 


	5. Dealing with grief

Chapter 5 - Dealing with grief  
  
At last Legolas spoke.   
  
"The extent of his injuries is bad, although we still do not fully know what ails him. He has a particularly bad cut on his chest, as well as numerous other wounds, from what I can tell at this time. We don't know how hard he was hit on the head. He has suffered blood loss, and it looks as though he has been knocked out."   
  
Merry clenched his fists.   
  
"You haven't answered my question. Is he going to die?"   
  
Aragorn looked up. His face was weary and sad.   
  
"We don't know Merry."   
  
Sam, who was hovering on the outskirts of the camp, saw Merry's face fall, and made his way over to him.   
  
"Don't worry Mister Merry. Pippin is a fighter, and I know Strider won't let him die," Sam said, gingerly sitting down beside Merry.   
  
"But you don't know that Sam," Merry said, a solitary tear slipping down his cheek. "Pippin is my best friend as well as my cousin. I don't know what I'll do if he dies."   
  
Sam patted him on the shoulder. He didn't know what to say to console Merry; he was never very good with words. Instead he sat by him while Legolas and Aragorn tended to Pippin.   
  
Merry wished he had Sam's trust in elves and men. He knew that Legolas and Aragorn were clever and skilled, but even they couldn't do everything. Feeling thoroughly miserable he leant against Sam, feeling a surge of weakness overcome his body.   
  
"Why don't you try and get some sleep?" Sam asked tentatively. Merry blinked, and straightened himself up. He realized his head had flopped onto Sam's shoulder.   
  
"I couldn't sleep while Pippins like...like that," he said, nodding to where Pippin lay.   
  
"You'll be of no use to him like this, it's best that you rest," Boromir had heard them talking, looking at Merry kindly. He hated seeing such jolly people so sad and despairing like this.  
  
"No, I'll sit here," Merry said stubbornly.   
  
Boromir shrugged his shoulders and resumed his circling of the camp.   
  
Merry wanted to know how Pippin was. He wanted to sit by him and help him, like he had always done. He hated to think of his cousin being in pain, especially in this cold and unfriendly place.   
  
Over by Pippin, Legolas straightened up and looked over to where Merry was sat.   
  
"You may come and sit with him, if you would like. We have done all we can, he must now rest."   
  
Merry moved over to Pippin's side. Pippin's body was covered in a thick rug, so only his face was visible. The cut on his forehead was bound in some cloth, and the other small scrapes had been washed, but he was still as white as chalk, and his lips were pale and thin. His eyes were shut and his breathing was sharp and shallow.   
  
"Oh Pip," Merry said, looking sadly at his cousin's face. "What have they done to you?"  
  
He grasped his hand and held on tightly, for just as much his benefit as Pippin's. Willing from the bottom of his soul for Pippin to wake up from his unconscious state and sleep naturally, he watched the rise and fall of his chest, terrified that it would stop. However, it did not, Pippin carried on breathing. Merry's eyes grew heavy as the night grew old, but he stayed by Pippin's side, silently fighting sleep. One by one the rest of the fellowship slept, until only he and Aragorn were awake. Aragorn walked softly over to Merry, his feet making almost no noise on the ground.   
  
"I can stay with Pippin. Please Merry, take some rest," Aragorn said quietly, putting his hand on Merrys shoulder.   
  
"I can't. I can't leave Pippin." Merry mumbled, a lump rising in his throat.   
  
Aragorn did not argue, instead he sat by Pippin and took out his pipe. He too was out of pipeweed, but the habit was too great to break so he simply chewed on the end.   
  
"It pains all of us Merry. You are not alone in your grief," he announced, removing the pipe from his mouth.   
  
"No one knows Pippin like I do. I have known him since he was born. I'm supposed to look after him, but where was I when the orcs took him? I was asleep, that's where I was," Merry said bitterly, disgust at himself showing in his voice.  
  
"You cannot blame yourself. It's not going to help Pippin," Aragorn said gently.   
  
"I know, but I can't help it. I feel so guilty."   
  
Aragorn did not speak for a time, he merely looked into the darkness that was slowly growing light. Merry felt sleep overcome him. His eyes slowly shut and he sank down onto the ground. He dimly felt Aragorn lay a rug over him, before he slipped away into the world of the dreaming.   
  
*-*  
  
Authors note: A little bit of a sad chapter! I feel bad at myself for doing that to Pippin.   
  
Thanks as always for the reviews, I just have one to respond to:  
  
Schlee Verde: I did know that Pippin was about 28, but I guess it slipped my mind when I said that he was a 'grown hobbit'. Thanks for pointing it out to me. Thanks also for your spelling!  
  
I think that's all I have to say for now, but remember to check back regularly, because I update this fic daily!  
  
LOTR is not mine.  
  
Please review on your way out, all criticism is welcome, as this is the first 'proper' fic with over one chapter that I've ever written and I'm a little apprehensive about it to say the least. 


	6. Worrying and wondering

Chapter Six - Worrying and Wondering  
  
Merry awoke with a start. The first thought that flooded into his head was of Pippin. He threw back the rug that was covering him and clambered to his feet, feeling slightly dizzy and disoriented. Sitting next to Pippin was Aragorn, who did not look like he had moved since Merry had fallen asleep. Aragorn heard him stir, and turned around to face him.   
  
"Pippin," Merry said hoarsely. "Is Pippin...?"   
  
"He is still sleeping," Aragorn said as Merry trailed off.  
  
Merry sighed with relief, for fear had hit him when he first woke that Pippin would not have made it through the night.   
  
"When will he wake?" Merry asked, moving over to Pippin's side.   
  
"It's not possible to tell," Aragorn answered.   
  
Merry looked into Pippin's face. It was as pale and as still as it had been in the night, no change had occurred.   
  
"Here, Master Merry. Eat this," Merry looked up and saw Gimli with a wafer of lembas in his outstretched hand.  
  
"It'll keep your strength up," Gimli finished, smiling kindly at him.  
  
"Thank you Gimli," Merry said meekly, accepting the waybread and biting into it. He felt some strength return to him and his spirits rose slightly as he finished the elvish food.   
  
"Aragorn," Legolas said, approaching him as he stood watching the others silently. "It is not safe. We cannot linger here much longer."   
  
"Legolas is right. The chance is that more orcs will come before the day is spent," Boromir agreed. "Our position is known, we are being tracked. It is high time that we left."   
  
Merry spoke. "We cannot leave now, what about Pippin?"   
  
That was evidently the question on everyone's mind.   
  
"We certainly cannot stay here," Boromir said stoutly.   
  
"But what will become of the hobbit if we leave?" Aragorn said. "He is not in a good state. He needs to rest to recover fully; boats are certainly not a practical place for healing.   
  
"We surely cannot walk, Aragorn," Boromir argued.   
  
"I do not intend to walk. I contemplate we move our camp to a more secure place further upstream."   
  
"Do you know of such a place?"   
  
"I do not, but I presume I will be able to find one. We must go further from the river than the enemy would expect."   
  
The discussion was clearly between Boromir and Aragorn. The rest of the company sat in silence, listening to the debate.   
  
"Why not carry on by river? Surely we must carry on with our mission?"   
  
"The further we go by river, the more dangerous our journey becomes. The river brings us ever closer to Mordor. I do not fully know what happened to Pippin last night, but I do know that we are being tracked. The most sensible thing would be to waylay our journey for a small number of days in a relatively safe place."   
  
Boromir was silenced momentarily, not able to carry on his argument.   
  
"If you truly think that is the best thing to do, then I leave the decision in your hands. However, I still think the river is our best path." Boromir turned on his heel and walked away from the gathered company, evidently not pleased with the decision. Aragorn did not speak. He sat looking thoughtfully into the sky. Sam looked worriedly at Pippin, who was lying in the centre of the camp.   
  
"Poor Pippin," he muttered to himself. He crept to the hobbit's side, and somewhat clumsily took hold of his hand. Frodo saw Sam sitting by Pippin, and joined him.   
  
"If only we knew what happened to him. I have all sorts of ideas and theories in my head, not one making any more sense than the other," Frodo said, looking at Pippin sadly.   
  
"It's a proper mystery, Mister Frodo," Sam said simply.  
  
Footsteps were heard, and Merry walked over to them. Without speaking, he sat down on the other side of Pippin, beside Frodo. Frodo saw Merry bite his lip as he looked down at Pippin, and felt sorrow in his heart for him. This was hurting Merry so much more than it was him, and it showed, even though Merry was trying to be strong. Frodo took him into a one armed embrace, trying to offer comfort. Frodo could tell from the weak smile that he received that the gesture was appreciated.  
  
Merry softly brushed a wayward strand of hair from Pippin's forehead, and then gently touched the bandage that was bound around his wound.  
  
"Poor Pip," He said quietly.  
  
The bond that the four hobbits shared seemed to grow stronger in the time that they sat together, and as the minutes and the hours went by they simply sat, silently sharing their grief. Slowly, the noticed a change come over Pippin. His breathing quickened and his body seemed to grow colder. Sam fetched more rugs, but he did not warm up. A cold sweat broke over his forehead, so Frodo bathed his brow, but the hobbit did not seem to be getting any better. Merry simply sat, holding Pippin's hand and staring blindly at Pippin's face.   
  
"Come on Pip." He whispered. "You can make it."   
  
*-*  
  
Authors Note: As always, here are my answers and responses to some of the reviews I received:  
  
Goblz: You ask where Frodo is. I guess I wanted to make it more of a Merry/Pippin fic so I did not include Frodo as much. I can ensure you that he is grieving too, I just didn't write about it! There is a little more Frodo in this chapter though.  
  
Thanks so much for all the reviews I have received (34!) You're all so supportive!  
  
Expect the next chapter up tomorrow.  
  
A little question, did I make the discussion/argument between Aragorn and Boromir obvious enough? I'm not sure I wrote it very well and I'm still not sure about it. Oh well, tell me what you think in a review please!  
  
LOTR is not mine. 


	7. Awake

Authors Note: I'm sorry that its such a short chapter, the next ones should be longer.   
  
Mojo the Rock Chick Munchkin: Thanks for your three-in-a-row review! 33 is actually the coming of age for a hobbit, I forgot it when I called Pip a 'grown hobbit'. Thanks for your support!  
  
Boromirlover: No, I didn't mean next Thursday! I forget that if some people are not from England then it may be a different day than it is over here. Thanks for your support also!  
  
41 reviews, that's the most I've ever received! I got 30 once, but I was made to delete the fic (but that's another story.).  
  
I don't think I have any more comments on this chapter, as it is pretty short. Only to point out that I am no expert in illnesses, so I hope that I got his symptoms approximately right!  
  
LOTR is not mine!  
  
*-*  
  
Chapter Seven - Awake  
  
Pippin felt as though he was in a dream. He did not feel cold nor hot, but weary and somewhat, he searched for the word, different. His eyelids were heavy and his mind was hazy and jumbled. He could dimly hear voices. Merry's voice. He lost consciousness again, and slipped back into a sleep world, unable to separate fact from fiction, vision from reality. He could hear people talking, but it felt as if they were a great distance away, out of his reach. He felt someone take hold of his hand, then more voices. He tried to listen, he wanted to be closer to the sound, but he could not get there. Slowly he felt a coldness seep through his body. He fought for breath. The very air he breathed was choking him. He felt water on his forehead. He couldn't breath; he was going to...   
  
Pippin's eyes shot open.   
  
"Merry," he whispered hoarsely, his throat dry and parched.   
  
Merry's eyes widened as he saw Pippin wake.   
  
"Pippin! You're awake!" he choked, scrambling onto his knees and grasping Pippins hand harder.   
  
The light of the sun hurt Pippin's head, and he half shut his eyes, wanting the darkness of sleep to overcome him again.   
  
"My head," Pippin whispered.   
  
He began to recognize a dull throbbing in his head, growing ever louder and more painful. His throat was dry and it hurt him to swallow or to talk. His body felt as if it were filled with lead, his legs and arms where heavy and aching, and he could feel a sharp, burning pain under his shoulder. Pippin heard footfalls, and then the voice of Aragorn, sounding calm yet with an edge of worry that he was unable to conceal. He shifted his position slightly so as to see him properly, and winced as his chest seared with pain. He felt a light touch on his arm.   
  
"Try to stay still Pippin. You must let your wound heal."   
  
Pippin moved his parched lips.   
  
"Water," he said faintly. He could feel the throbbing in his head almost overcome him.   
  
A moment later something was put to his mouth, and he felt drops of cool, wet water slip down his throat.   
  
"Pippin. It's me, Merry. You're going to be fine Pippin, please hold on." Pippin could hear Merry's voice, and then felt a tight grip on his hand. Pippin squeezed back, grateful to have something to hold and comfort him. Then, his eyes shut, and he gave into the weakness of sleep.   
  
Merrys eyes dropped to the ground and his hand flopped to his side.   
  
"Why is he in such pain? I did not know his injuries were so bad," Frodo said, seeing the sadness in Merry's face.   
  
"It is possible he has got slight poisoning from the orcs sword. It did not go deep, which I am thankful for, but it will make him very weak. We must make sure he has enough to drink," Aragorn answered.   
  
"I see," Frodo answered. "What else can we do for him?"   
  
"There is nothing else we can do. It is not our battle to fight, it is Pippin's."   
  
*-* 


	8. Moving camp

Chapter Eight - Moving Camp  
  
Aragorn stood silently for a time, lost in his own thoughts. Ever since Gandalf had passed, he had the responsibility of leading the fellowship placed upon his shoulders. It was a hard burden to carry, for Aragorn did not know what Gandalf meant to do after they had passed through Lothlórien. He just hoped that his decision was the right one. Legolas touched him on the shoulder, interrupting his thoughts.  
  
"If you mean to leave today, we should go now," the elf said. "Dark will be with us in a matter of hours."  
  
"You are right Legolas," Aragorn replied after a moments thought. "Let us prepare to leave immediately." He then raised his voice, so he could be heard by all in the camp.  
  
  
  
"Bormoir, please make ready the boats. We will leave for a safer place where we cannot be tracked."  
  
Boromir nodded, and began to gather their belongings.  
  
"Legolas, please carry Pippin to a boat."   
  
Legolas also nodded.  
  
"And I shall make a bed for him," Gimli said, glancing at Pippin. "I hate to see the merry young folk so unhappy," he added in an undertone to Legolas.  
  
"As do I, Gilmi son of Gloin. Let us make haste," Legolas answered.  
  
The Fellowship busied themselves with preparing to leave. Pippin, who was still deeply asleep, was carried to the river by Legolas, laid out in the back of one of the boats, upon a bed of cloaks and spare garments of clothing. He slept on, oblivious to what was going on around him.   
  
After the last of their things were safely stored in the boats they were ready to leave. Aragorn appeared from their now deserted camp, a satisfied look on his face.  
  
"I've destroyed all traces of us," he announced. "No one will know we've been there. Now it is high time we left."  
  
"How are we to fit in the boats?" Boromir said, looking at the boat that Pippin lay in with slightly raised eyebrows. "Three of us can no longer fit."  
  
"You are right," Aragorn said, pondering for a moment.  
  
"I can man Pippins boat. I am more than able to," Merry said, stepping forward.  
  
Boromir looked doubtfully at his small frame. Merry saw his expression and laughed, something that he had not done for many days.  
  
"I may be short, but I can handle a boat better than any man," he said, crossing his arms in mock stubbornness.   
  
Bormoir looked amused. "Very well, I shall go in Legolas and Gimlis boat, if I may."  
  
"Of course," Gimli said, chuckling to himself. "But we must store some of our things with Merry, or we shall surely sink!"  
  
They set off shortly, Merry paddling strongly down the river, following Aragorns boat. His spirits were higher than they had been previously, the lighthearted jesting had lightened his heart and the fact that they were moving to a safer spot made him feel more optimistic. However, he still worried about Pippin. Aragorn was right, boats were no place for healing, and although he was sleeping naturally, Pippin did not look much better. Merry found himself turning around every few minutes to look at Pippin anxiously, scanning his face for signs of improvement. None came, and as the evening wore on, Merry grew more worried. Why was he not getting better? This was why the words of Aragorn came as a relief.   
  
"Bring your boats to the right hand bank." he called out. "Follow me!" He deftly steered his boat over to the riverbank, followed by Merry, and lastly Legolas. They climbed onto the riverbank, and Boromir lifted Pippin up into his strong arms, cradled in blankets.  
  
"We must first hide the boats. They could give our position away," Aragorn said.  
  
Legolas and Gimli made light work of hiding the boats in a thicket of overgrowth, and soon they were unrecognisable.   
  
"Now grasp your packs and tighten your belts," Aragorn announced. "It will be a long walk back upstream."  
  
Slinging his pack onto his shoulders Merry began to walk behind Boromir, so he could be close to Pippin. Because of Boromir's height all he could see of Pippin was a curly head peeping out from a bundle of rugs. Remembering Pippins wound; he worried that it would hurt him to be carried.  
  
"How much further must we walk?" He asked Aragorn, after they had been on foot for over an hour. "Only I am afraid this is not good for Pippin."  
  
"Not much further now. We must double back on ourselves to confuse anyone who is tracking us," Aragorn answered. "And as for Pippin, I have bandaged him up as well as I know how. I know this walk isn't helping his condition, but I saw no other option. It simply   
  
isn't safe to go any further down river."   
  
Merry nodded, and then stepped back so he could walk beside Pippin and Boromir. Aragorn seemed to be leading them on a winding path back upstream. He made sure they did not leave any tracks on wet ground, and occasionally disappeared for some minutes to make some signs further from their trail so as to lead any enemies away from them. At last he seemed satisfied they were in a safe enough position.  
  
The place where they stopped was a small dell in the land, big enough to hold the eight members of the Fellowship, yet small enough not to be seen unless you were nearly in it yourself. On one side were small, wiry looking bushes, and on the other were grey, gnarled trees, bare and leafless. Tired and hungry, the company flopped into the patchy, yellow grass, which was ugly yet comfortable to sit on, and made a meal out of lembas and water from their canteens.  
  
"I suppose they'll be no fire then," Sam said unhappily to himself as night began to approach.  
  
Merry half heartedly nibbled on a piece of the waybread whilst sitting beside Pippin. Aragorn had re-bandaged the wound, which was not healing properly, "due to the poison," he had said. The walk, although necessary, had taken its toll on Pippin, and he was looking most uncomfortable. Merry could feel himself growing more and more troubled. Pippin occasionally writhed on the ground, as though something was paining him.  
  
"Come on Pip. You need to wake up now. We need to give you some water," Merry said to him, holding Pippin's hand as he moved again. Merry felt a sudden pressure on his hand. Pippin was grasping it back, and then his eyes slowly opened.  
  
"Pippin!" He said, joy sounding in his voice, as, for the second time, Pippin awoke.  
  
-*- 


	9. Feeling the guilt

Authors Note: Sorry about the dull chapter, it will get more interesting before the end, I promise!  
  
In the next chapter of this fic, the truth finally comes out to the rest of the Fellowship about what happened to Pippin. Check back tomorrow, It'll be uploaded!  
  
LOTR is not mine.  
  
  
  
*-*  
  
Chapter Nine - Feeling the guilt  
  
The first thing Pippin saw when he awoke was Merrys face staring anxiously down on him. He felt woozy and dizzy, and had the strong urge to vomit. He managed to pull himself away from where he was lying, and retched on the grass. Merry rubbed his back so as to comfort him, and Pippin flopped back onto the ground, feeling exhausted.   
  
"Would you like some water?" e heard Merry say. He nodded weakly, and Merry put the canteen to his mouth. The water washed away the sour, acid taste in his mouth, and cooled his burning throat. He shut his eyes, his head was aching again.  
  
"He's trying to get rid of the poison," Aragorn said, crouching down beside Pippin. "Hopefully he'll feel a bit better now."  
  
Aragorn was right, Pippin did feel a bit more like himself. Still, he was wearied and his wound hurt him terribly. He put his hand to it, and felt a bandage over it. He turned his head slightly, trying to see where he was. He did not recognize the place, it was not where they had been camping when...Pippin gasped. The memories of the orc attack flooded back into his mind. He felt panic again, was anyone hurt? Was everyone alive? He tried to speak; though his voice was croaky and cracked.  
  
"Frodo...Strider...Sam. Are you all alive?" He whispered, grasping Merrys hand tighter.  
  
"Of course, you silly hobbit," Merry said, looking confused. "Why shouldn't we be alive?"  
  
"You forget what happened to him." Aragorn said, also hearing what Pippin said. "He was attacked by orcs."  
  
"Oh yes," Merry said, feeling foolish. "But you'll be able to tell us what happened, Pip."   
  
"Not now. He needs to rest," Aragorn said firmly.   
  
Pippin wanted to tell them what had happened, but he could not find the strength to. He wanted to warn the others that there could be orcs out there again, looking for them. But it looked as though they had moved camp. They would be safe here for a while. Pippin felt nausea in his stomach, and his head was again aching. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to leave this world of pain. He relaxed his body, and drifted away.  
  
Merry watched this happen, and then turned to Aragorn.  
  
"What do you suppose happened that night?" he asked, suddenly feeling very weary himself.  
  
"I do not fully know. Pippin was obviously attacked, but he must have somehow prevented the orcs from finding us. He is certainly very brave," Aragorn answered, looking down at Pippin with a small smile on his lips.  
  
"Yes, he is. He may well have saved us all." Merry said, feeling pity and then admiration for Pippin. These feelings were soon replaced by guilt. If he had not fallen asleep Pippin would not have gone off on his own. Pippin had almost been killed and it had been his fault. Merry scowled at his own stupidity.   
  
"Fool of a Brandybuck," he muttered to himself.  
  
Frodo, who was sitting nearby, saw Merrys expression, and walked over to him.  
  
"What ails you Merry?" he asked, looking puzzled.  
  
Merry did not say anything at first. He gathered his thoughts, then spoke. "It is my fault," he said dully. "I did not look after him. I fell asleep."  
  
Frodo smiled. "Come Merry, you must not blame yourself. I dare say, even if you had been awake, that you both would have wandered off, and instead of one casualty we would have two."  
  
Merry pondered on what Frodo had said. "I suppose your right," he said at length.  
  
"There!" Frodo said, patting Merry on the shoulder. "Now take off the glum face and stop feeling sorry for yourself!" he said, grinning at him.  
  
Merry smiled reluctantly.  
  
"As always, you are right," he admitted simply.  
  
Frodo clapped him on the back, and left. Merry felt happier after that. 'Good old Frodo', he thought. 'He has the fate of Middle Earth on his shoulders, yet he is still able to be happy and cheery.' Then Merry felt uncomfortable again. Frodo had an immense task laid upon him, and here was he, groaning about feeling guilty to him when really it should be him comforting Frodo. It was then Merry decided to stop feeling sorry for himself, and to instead care about the ones who had a much greater burden to carry.  
  
The night drew in around them, and Gimli, who was on first watch, urged Merry to sleep. Merry at last gave in, and lay down beside the sleeping Pippin. He drew a rug over himself, and it was not long before he too drifted away.  
  
*-* 


	10. The truth

Authors Note: Well I'm slapping on the mush at the end of this chapter! I found the explanation hard to write (damn it!) There are four more chapters to come before the end of the fic though, and I can say that there will be a little twist at the end, as well as some Boromir angst-like stuff.  
  
Thanks for the reviews, and remember that more are always welcome (did you get the hint?)  
  
I do not own LOTR,   
  
*-*  
  
Chapter Ten - The truth  
  
Throughout the next day Pippin slipped in and out of sleep, all the while Merry sitting by his side, inquiring anxiously as to how he was feeling. Pippin was glad to have someone sitting by him each time he awoke, as he often felt sick and ill. The rest of the fellowship had no other option but to stay in the camp. The day was long and empty, punctuated only by Pippins waking moments and meals. Boromir was obviously frustrated that they were not moving on, regularly fidgeting and walking off into the woods with his sword swinging at his side. Aragorn was silent, sitting leaning on the sloped wall of the dell, chewing on the end of his pipe. He only occasionally got up to check on Pippin, to change his bandage and take his temperature. Legolas and Gimli sat together, conversing about woods and mines.  
  
Eventually, when the day was almost spent, Pippin began to show signs of recovering. The colour came back to his face, and he seemed more alert. At last, Aragorn said the words that they had all been secretly wondering ever since Pippin was discovered.  
  
"Pippin, are you ready to tell us what happened?"   
  
Pippin nodded slowly, so Aragorn lay him up against the grassy bank so he could speak to them. Pippin swallowed, his eyes dark and wide.  
  
"I heard voices," he began, somewhat shakily. "I went to find out what they were." Merry nodded as if to encourage Pippin, holding his hand tight.  
  
"There were orcs. About thirty of them, not far from the camp. They were going to come and...and kill you all. They wanted the ring," Pippin continued.  
  
Everyone started slightly at Pippins revaluation. They could not see how a small hobbit could defeat a gang of orcs.  
  
"That's strange," Aragorn mused. "They weren't coming from the direction of Mordor or Isengard."  
  
"They weren't sent by Sauron, or Saruman. They wanted the ring for themselves," Pippin explained.   
  
Aragorn raised his eyebrows, obviously thinking along the same lines that Pippin had when he first heard this information. Boromir made as if to speak, but Legolas held up a hand to silence him, at the same time urging Pippin to carry on speaking.  
  
"I knew I had to stop them. I couldn't let them attack you all while you slept."  
  
"Oh Pip, what did you do?" Merry said, grasping Pippins hand harder.  
  
"I pretended to be Frodo. I let them see me, and pretended I had the ring."   
  
"But you didn't have the ring," Frodo said.  
  
"No, but I had something that looked like it. I had my parents ring, you know..." Pippin explained, glancing at Merry for verification  
  
Merry did not speak, but stared at the ground. He was realizing what Pippin had done.  
  
"I did not give it to them at first, so they got angry. They beat me, and..." Pippin paused, gesturing at his wound.  
  
"I gave them my ring, and the believed that it was the One Ring. They left, but could not resist giving me one last beating," Pippin finished, bitterness creeping into his voice as he recalled the fateful night.  
  
There was silence in the group, then:  
  
"You clever, brave, stupid hobbit." Merry cried, his voice choking. He hugged Pippin hard, burying his face in Pippins shoulder. Pippin was stunned momentarily, but then recovered and returned the embrace. Meanwhile, the rest of the Fellowship looked on with expressions of admiration on their faces.   
  
"That explains it them," Frodo said, sitting back on his heels, obviously still thinking it over in his head. He looked at his cousin, a feeling of gratitude welling up inside of him. He smiled, and nodded at Pippin. Pippin smiled back, accepting Frodo's thanks without words.  
  
"That was a sly trick you played," Boromir said briefly, ruffling Pippins hair with a half smile on his lips. He then stalked off to patrol the camp. Looking after him, Merry saw that his face was tense and his smile was somewhat strained.   
  
"That was indeed good thinking, Master Pippin," Aragorn said, smiling slightly at the hobbit. "But now we must think. We cannot stay here much longer, even after my efforts we could be found."  
  
"How long do we have?" Gimli asked.  
  
"I should hope three days if we are unlucky, six or more if we are fortunate," Aragorn answered.  
  
Then, Pippin spoke. "I hope I am not too much of a burden," he began weakly. "I know you had to waylay the journey."  
  
Gimli interrupted him. "Don't you worry. If you are a burden then I am an elf!" Pippin smiled at this absurd image, and he saw Legolas roll his eyes fondly.  
  
Merry grinned, much happier after Pippin showed signs of recovering. He sat at his cousins' side, much lighter of heart than he had been previously. As he stole a glance at Pippin's face, pale yet alert, he felt pride for him. He had saved them all; he had proved his worth to the Fellowship.  
  
Pippin himself felt glad that he had told all. Now someone else could deal with the problem of the orcs, he did not have to worry himself anymore. The effort of waking and talking began to take its toll on him. He leant against Merrys side, and Merry turned and smiled at him.  
  
"Thanks Pip," he said, gently pulling his hair, something they had done when they were young hobbits.  
  
Pippin yawned. "I wasn't going to let them get at any of you." He said.  
  
His eyes drooped, and he slipped further down the bank until he was lying down. Merry set a rug over him and tucked it gently under his body, being careful of his many scrapes and bruises.  
  
"Especially you Merry," he said sleepily.  
  
"Especially me what?" Merry questioned.  
  
"Especially you. I wasn't going to let them get you."   
  
*-* 


	11. Facing the wrath of the Ring

Authors Note: I've livened things up a little with some Boromir angst type stuff. I hope I'm not too hard on the guy, for he is my favorite character. Thanks to all reviewers, and remember to review on your way out- they make the job worthwhile!  
  
I do not own LOTR   
  
*-*  
  
Chapter 11 - Facing the wrath of the Ring  
  
Merry sat with Pippin throughout the night. Although he was recovering he still woke, often feverish and disorientated. The poison from the orc sword was still in his body, and sweat poured from his brow as he tossed and turned. Merry spoke soothingly to him as he pressed cloths soaked in cold water onto his forehead, and before long he was sleeping again.   
  
When Legolas woke in the early hours of the morning he found Merry slumped at Pippins side, lost in sleep. He smiled to himself as he observed the two sleeping hobbits, peacefully huddled together under the stars. He sat down just above them on the upper slope of the dell with his bow and quiver laid beside him. He stared into the darkness, but nothing stirred for many hours until Merry awoke.   
  
"Is Pippin all right?" he asked blearily, noticing Legolas sitting above him.   
  
"He is sleeping like a child," Legolas replied. "Go back to sleep Merry, he will be fine with me."  
  
Merry gave him a grateful look before he lay back down on the ground. He was worn out, and had not slept properly for days. Legolas was glad that at last he was sleeping deeply and resting himself after the hardships of the past few days. He turned his attention away from the hobbits, and leant against a nearby tree. The elf sat alert and ready for many hours, but no noise was heard, and soon it was dawn. The sleeping forms of the Fellowship were roused by weak sunlight shining into their camp. After a small yet filling breakfast of lembas they gathered together and talked. Boromir, who was still not acting like himself, seemed anxious to move on.   
  
"If we must stay still for much longer I shall go mad," he said, pacing the camp restlessly.  
  
"I am sure you will be able to hold on for a day or two," Gimli said, looking at Boromir with furrowed brow. He too had noticed that something was wrong.  
  
"I heard nothing last night, everything was still and quiet. It should be safe to stay for a few more days," Legolas said.  
  
"True, but is it too quiet? I cannot fight the suspicion that they will not let us get away easily," Aragorn said.   
  
"You are right. I too find the silence unnerving," Frodo agreed.   
  
"What about Pippin? Is he well yet?" Sam asked, looking over to where Pippin lay, sleeping deeply.  
  
"He is mending," Aragorn answered.  
  
"But when will he be well?" Boromir asked. "When will we be able to continue our journey?"  
  
Aragorn seemed slightly annoyed by Boromir's attitude.  
  
"Boromir, we do not need to continue straight away. It could be dangerous to Pippins health, and we are perfectly safe here for another day at least," Aragorn said, with a sharp edge to his voice.  
  
"I see that we are being held up by him," Boromir said coldly. "But must we continue with him?"   
  
There was a silence, and eight pairs of disbeliving eyes stared at Boromir.   
  
"I hope you are not suggesting that we leave him behind?" Aragorn said, and there was anger mingled with the calmness in his voice.  
  
Gimli sprang to his feet, his temper overcoming him.  
  
"This young hobbit has saved all of our skins. How dare you suggest that we leave him defenseless when we owe him our lives?" he cried, bristling with anger.   
  
Boromir looked stunned. A change came over his face, and he put his hand to his forehead as though trying to control his thoughts.  
  
"I... I am sorry," he murmured at last, his voice shaking slightly.   
  
He then turned on his heel and walked away from the camp.  
  
Sam's voice broke the silence. "What just happened?" he asked, his face showing confusion.  
  
"Do not move, I shall be back soon," Aragorn said, getting up from where he sat. He moved off at a fast pace in the direction of where Boromir had headed.  
  
Merry looked dumstruck. "I thought he was our friend...I thought..."   
  
"I suppose you don't always know someone as well as you think you do," Sam said, staring at the floor.  
  
"I think you are judging him too harshly," Legolas said. The hobbits looked over to where the elf sat.  
  
"That was not the Boromir I know speaking."  
  
***  
  
Aragorn found Boromir standing in a clearing in the trees. He had a lost, dazed look about him, and when he heard Aragorn approach he turned to him and spoke.  
  
"I do not know what just happened Aragorn," he said in a bewildered voice.  
  
"Do not worry my friend." Aragorn said, laying his hand on Boromir's shoulder.  
  
"I could not control what came out of my mouth," Boromir continued.   
  
"I understand," Aragorn said. "I have noticed that you have been troubled for many days now. "  
  
"The Ring is playing with my mind. I can feel its power. I try to resist it, but it drains from my very soul," Boromir said, shaking his head in a mixture of disappointment and frustration.   
  
"Do not cut yourself off Boromir. You must talk to us."  
  
"You are right, as always." Boromir said, smiling slightly. Then a distressed expression crossed his face.  
  
"I said awful things. To Pippin, and the others," he said, looking troubled..   
  
"You have grown to care for the hobbits, have you not?"   
  
A smile played about Boromir's lips.   
  
"They are wonderful. So spirited and full of life, unlike anyone I've ever met. I hate to think that I hurt them." He paused for a moment, then turned to Aragorn and spoke.   
  
"Will I be forgiven?"  
  
"I am sure that you will be."   
  
The two men made their way back to their camp where the rest of the company was. Boromir cleared his throat as if to give an explanation, but before he could speak Sam interrupted.  
  
"It's all right, Sir. Legolas explained it to us," he announced in his reassuring manner.   
  
Boromir hung his head. "I do not deserve it."  
  
"It was not you talking, it was the Ring. I understand," Frodo said.  
  
Boromir knelt down so as to be at eye level with Frodo.   
  
"Your forgiveness means much to me, Ringbearer," he said, taking Frodo's hand for a moment and bowing his head. Then he turned to Pippin, who had awaked at the sound of raised voices.   
  
"I hope I have your forgiveness also. I am very much in your debt," he said, looking into Pippin's eyes gravely.   
  
Pippin, though he was weary, raised himself up to speak.  
  
"Please do not carry this burden on your own, I am sure that we can help you bear it," he replied.   
  
"You speak wise words." Boromir said humbly. Then he broke into a smile and put his hand over Pippin's. "Halflings truly are remarkable."  
  
Then Merry spoke, his voice breaking the rather tense air. "Please lets not dwell on the past. Can we not have a song or a story to help while away the hours?"  
  
Everyone smiled, glad that the tension was gone. The Company gathered together and listened to Gimli talk proudly of mines and jewels, Legolas sing songs in his lilting elvish tongue and Aragorn speak of men who roamed the earth many years before they were born.   
  
Only when Pippin fell asleep on Sam's shoulder was when they realized that they had been talking for many hours. Merry covered him with rugs, and after their supper they lay down to sleep. Only Aragorn lay awake. Even after the happiness of the afternoon he did not feel at ease. Although there was no sign of any orcs or other unwelcome visitors he could sense that there was more to come. He just hoped that they would be protected for a few more days. He leant back against a tree and got out his pipe, wishing for some pipeweed to smoke.   
  
"I shall just have to hold on, and hope for the best," he said, sighing and drawing his cloak around his shoulders.   
  
*-* 


	12. Tracks, pipes and a disappearance

Authors Note: All I have to say is: I'm not sure if Boromir smokes.  
  
*-*  
  
Chapter 12 Tracks, pipes and a disappearance  
  
On the fifth day at their hidden camp it was not Boromir, but Aragorn who was feeling uneasy. As dawn was breaking he took Legolas and Boromir with him to roam the area around their camp, leaving Gimli and the hobbits behind. They were gone for much of the day, and the ones who stayed at the camp grew increasingly worried. Gimli paced around wielding his axe whilst the four halflings sat huddled together in the centre of the dell. Frodo kept his sword, Sting beside him at all time, feeling wary of even the slightest noise. Merry re-bound Pippin's wound as best he could, but his efforts could not match those of Aragorn. Pippin was awake more often than not, and had regained enough strength to sit himself up. Merry was glad to see him recovering but he wished that the others were here to tend to him properly. And Sam was miserable because everybody else was, plus the fact that he had not had a half-decent meal for days. He longed for a fire to warm his feet and for some nice, wholesome Shire-food.   
  
"A good, meaty stew would go down a treat," he mumbled to himself, thinking of the warm hearth at the hobbit hole in Bagshot Row.   
  
At midday when the sun was high in the sky, the wanderers returned. They sat down, looking weary and tired. After they had taken a drink, Aragorn began to speak.  
  
"I presume we all have news to report. I shall go first, if I may."  
  
Legolas and Boromir nodded their approval.   
  
"I traveled back upstream to our old camp. I found orc footprints but it appears that there were no more than six. I guess that the others that Pippin saw have been slain or gone back to wherever it was they came from. They ransacked our old camp and it looks like they attempted to track us. I followed their trail, which took a long time for they were scattered all over the place. They eventually crossed over the river, and then I lost their track, for the ground on the other side is firm and hard. I can only guess that they have either given up, or are still looking."   
  
"Only six, you say?" Gimli said, "They surely cannot be a threat to us."  
  
"True, but we still must be wary," Aragorn answered. "Legolas, what have you to report?"  
  
"I crossed over the river as well as the orcs," The elf answered. "I made use of one of the boats that we hid. I found nothing close to our camp, but further afield I saw tracks made by their loathsome feet. I could not make out what way they were going, but Aragorn was right, they did cross the river."  
  
"Alas, for my tale is not so encouraging," Boromir said. "I carried on downstream from here, and on the bank many miles away they left tracks. They may have seen or heard a sign of us and crossed back across the river. They are far from our camp but the tracks were a day or more old, so I do not know where they could be now."   
  
"That is not such good news" Aragorn said. "I fear that we must move on soon."  
  
"But Pippin surely cannot walk yet!" Merry cried.   
  
Aragorn smiled. "Do not worry, we do not intend to go without him. He is recovering quickly and I dare say that Boromir will carry him back to the boats again."  
  
"Do not worry about me, I am feeling much better in myself already. I dare say I could stand if I put in the effort," Pippin said.  
  
"You are a stout fellow," Legolas said, smiling as he looked at the hobbit's determined face.  
  
"When do we intend to leave?" Frodo asked.  
  
"Today, if possible," Aragorn answered. "It is but midday, so we have many hours before we must leave. I suggest that we spend our time here resting and regaining our strength, especially Pippin."  
  
"I do not think I can sit still for much longer," Pippin said, smiling. "My legs are so stiff, they need some exercise."  
  
"Steady on. You're not better yet," Merry said hastily.  
  
"If you say so, but I still must walk a little before we leave," Pippin replied stubbornly.  
  
"As you wish, young Pippin," Aragorn said, shaking his head slightly. "Hobbits are indeed stronger than they appear," he murmured to himself.   
  
They all busied themselves with packing away their bedding and organizing their packs. Sam was overjoyed when he found a forgotten supply of pipe weed at the bottom of a saucepan ("Of all places!" he exclaimed), and soon everyone, with the exception of Legolas and Pippin (for Merry would not allow him any) had their pipes lit and the fragrant smell of tobacco was soon light in the air.  
  
"If you are all to puff away without me, I think I shall take a walk," Pippin announced, moving the rug from over his knees and standing with slightly weak legs. "I do not think I like the smell of pipeweed if I do not myself have a pipe in my hand."  
  
"Wait for a moment, I shall come with you," Merry called out as Pippin walked away from the came. When Pippin did not reply, he spoke again.  
  
"Don't be playing tricks on us Pip. I know you're there." he said, assuming that Pippin was playing some kind of joke on him. No reply came from Pippin, but instead the sound of feet on leaves, and a muffled gasp.  
  
Merry felt a vague sense of fear close around him. His body tensed and his mouth felt dry.   
  
"Pippin?" he called, turning around to face the way that Pippin had been standing.  
  
Pippin was not there.  
  
*-* 


	13. The Ending

Authors Note: This is the last chapter of this fic. I'd just like to say thank you to all of my reviewers. It's so encouraging to get reviews, and they're very pleasant to receive. They make the job worthwhile. So thanks for taking the time!  
  
-*-   
  
Chapter 13 The Ending  
  
"Pippin?" Merry called. "Pippin?" he cried again when there was no answer, growing more frantic by the second. He sprang to his feet, his head swiveling to and fro searching for signs of Pippin. Aragorn was then at his side, his sword drawn.  
  
"What's happened?" he asked.  
  
"Pippin's gone. One minute he was here and the next he had vanished," Merry told him quickly.  
  
Aragorn nodded. "It is as I feared," he said grimly. "The orcs have come back for him."  
  
"What?" Merry exclaimed, panic showing in his voice. "I must find him, they can't take him."  
  
With that, he grasped his sword from the ground where it lay and ran from the camp, in the direction of where Pippin had been last.  
  
"Wait!" Aragorn shouted. "It's not safe!"   
  
His cries fell on deaf ears. Merry was filled with anger and determination to save Pippin, and he ran from the camp without turning or heeding Aragorn's words.  
  
"Loathsome scum. How dare they take him!" He muttered to himself as he ran. He was not going to let them take Pippin again if it was the last thing he did. Hatred and anger fueled him on, and he did not think of anything but his determination to find Pippin.  
  
He drew to a halt when he heard their voices. Ducking behind a tree, he peered out from behind the trunk. There were six orcs, just as Aragorn had predicted. They looked worn and tiered, and madness shone in their eyes, more so than it usually did in such creatures. Two of them had Pippin up against a tree, and the third was speaking to him. Their weapons were drawn, and they looked ready to strike. Merry was close enough to be able to catch his words.  
  
"Filthy little maggot." he was saying venomously. "You made the wrong decision when you tried to fool us," the largest one growled, looking down on Pippin threateningly. Pippin gritted his teeth and said nothing, yet Merry could see fear and hopelessness in his eyes.  
  
"Here's your confounded ring," one of the orcs spat. "Stupid piece of tin." Merry saw him throw Pippin's ring to the ground with such force that it bounced many feet away. It came to rest not far from where Merry stood, and without thinking he bent over and pocketed it. He saw the glint of a sword in the corner of his eye. The orc had raised his weapon, and was holding it close to Pippin's neck. Pippin was shaking with fear, yet still trying to keep a brave face.  
  
"You'll pay, you slimy little halfling. You'll think twice before you try to catch us out!"  
  
Merry felt anger explode inside him. How dare they talk like that to Pippin! He grasped his sword, and ran out from his hiding place, without a second thought to how he was going to defeat six armed orcs twice the size of him.  
  
"Pippin!" he shouted. Before the orcs knew what was happening, he had plunged his sword into one of their backs. As its body fell to the floor the five that remained shouted in rage and turned on Merry.  
  
"Run Pippin!" he cried, for they had let Pippin fall to the floor when Merry had appeared.   
  
"I'm not leaving you!" Pippin shouted back, pulling himself up doggedly from where he had fallen.   
  
Merry dodged away from the orcs, backing away from them swiftly. He ducked and dived from their blows, but he could not keep it up for much longer. There were more of them than of him, and he was tiring already. Just he had a near miss from one of their blades, a shout came from Pippin. He had picked up the sword from the orc that Merry had slain, and advanced on the others that were attacking Merry. With a terrifying scream, he launched himself onto one of their backs, and bought the sword down onto his neck. His face was pale yet set with determination as he dropped to the floor, landing like a cat on his feet. Merry used the opportunity to slay the third orc, and remembered what Boromir had taught him as he killed it with a swift stroke of his sword.  
  
"Watch out Pip!" he cried, and Pippin ducked just in time to avoid a heavy blow from the enemy's blade.  
  
The remaining three closed in on them. They were very angry after seeing the hobbits kill their kin. Merry and Pippin backed into a tree, terrified. They wielded their weapons, but in vain.   
  
Just as one of them was about to bring down his sword, a sharp twang was heard, and he fell dead to the floor. Merry and Pippin turned in surprise, and saw Legolas standing but a short distance away, his bow taut and ready. One of his arrows was impaled in the orcs neck. Almost instantly Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli leapt forth with a horrible cry, and made light work of slaying the remaining two orcs.   
  
There was suddenly quietness after the speed and noise of the battle. Everyone was still and silent. Surrounded by six orc bodies stood Merry and Pippin. Pippin slumped to the ground, exhausted by the effort of the fight.   
  
"Are you all right? Are you hurt?" Aragorn said, rushing to his side.  
  
"We are fine," Merry said, fighting for breath. "We're not injured."   
  
Just then footfalls were heard, and Frodo and Sam came running up. Aragorn had made them stay at the camp incase Pippin returned, but after hearing the sounds of battle they had hurried away to find the rest of the company.  
  
"What on earth happened?" Frodo asked, taking in the sight of six dead orcs and the rest of the Fellowship standing still wielding their weapons.  
  
"They came back for Pippin," Merry explained. "But," he said, drawing breath, "We saw them off."  
  
"Quite right you did," Aragorn said to Merry. "But did you not heed my calls? That was a foolish thing to do, running off," he said sternly.   
  
Merry hung his head.  
  
"But," he carried on, "You may have saved Pippins life."  
  
Pippin pulled himself up off the ground, and stood clinging to Merry's side.  
  
"I thought they had me," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.  
  
Merry smiled. "They almost did."  
  
"Well, young Merry," Boromir said, stepping forward. "It looks like you have repaid Pippins debt."   
  
"I did not mean it like that. I did not protect him for glory," Merry said defensively.  
  
"I know you didn't Merry," Pippin said. "You did it because you had to."  
  
"That's right," Merry agreed. "And because I couldn't let them get you again. If they'd of hurt you, or...or, well you know, I wouldn't have been able to cope again."   
  
Pippin smiled. "I understand. Thank you Merry."  
  
The two hobbits exchanged looks, and it was evident that they did not words to communicate what each other was thinking.   
  
"I hate to have to say it, but we must move on before something else happens," Aragorn announced, breaking the silence. "We have a rather long walk ahead of us."  
  
They all made their way back to their camp, where they collected their remaining belongings. Boromir made as if to pick up Pippin, but Pippin stopped him.  
  
"I should like to walk with Merry, if you do not mind," he said.  
  
"As you wish." Boromir said, pausing for a moment to nod to both of them before striding away to the head of the line.   
  
"I believe this is yours," Merry said to Pippin after they had been walking for a few minutes. "It's your ring that you gave to those orcs. I picked it up when it fell." He pressed the ring into Pippin's palm.  
  
"Oh!" Pippin exclaimed, holding the ring up so that it glinted in the sunlight. "I thought I'd never see it again." He gave Merry a grateful glance as he tucked the ring into his pocket.  
  
The two hobbits walked on in companionable silence, Merry holding Pippins arm to make walking easier for him. They soon reached the river, and located the place where their boats were hidden. As Legolas and Aragorn pulled the boats into the river, Merry chuckled to himself as he remembered his words of so many days ago. He turned to Pippin, who was resting atop a tree root.   
  
"Well Pip," he said, his lips stretching into a smile. "Its back to the boats again."  
  
----------  
  
THE END  
  
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End file.
